


The Fight

by Filmsterr



Series: Life with Ruby [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Apple Pie Life, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Slice of Life, dadstiel, parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-07-23
Packaged: 2018-07-26 08:22:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7567027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Filmsterr/pseuds/Filmsterr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean hears the key turn in the lock and he’s on his feet immediately. He carries himself out into the hallway, chest puffed up and primed to tell his boyfriend just exactly what is on his mind. </p><p>However. </p><p>His voice catches in his throat before he has a chance to speak.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Fight

Dean is sitting on the couch in the living room of the apartment, enjoying a rare quiet evening. He is listening to the quiet sounds of Cas pattering around in the kitchen and zoning out in front of the television. When he hears Cas’ footsteps coming down the hall, he quickly switches channels. He’ll say he’s watching football (he’s not), though why he hides his guilty pleasure from his boyfriend is a mystery. 

“And what is Dr. Sexy up to tonight?” Cas muses as he sinks next to Dean on the couch. “Fighting a deadly attack on breast tissues? Fending off bacterial enemies of well-coifed hair-dos?”

Dean grumbles beside him, wrapping an arm over Castiel’s torso. “You’re a dick, know that?”

“Oh, come on. It’s funny. I don’t know why you try to hide it.”

He is rolling his eyes, but Dean can’t hide the slight rouging of his cheeks. He shakes his head, but flips the channel back anyway. He takes a sip of his beer, sighs. 

They are relaxed. It’s nice. Castiel readjusts himself to snuggle closer to Dean. They lay there, connected, content. Dean is watching the TV, but Cas isn’t, really. Instead he slinks his head down, lays it on the rough fabric of Dean’s denim pants. He pays attention to the feel of the material on his cheek, the soft little sounds of Dean’s steady breathing. 

After an episode and a half of Dr. Sexy, Dean gives the clock a quick glance, then reaches over and switches the television off, running a lazy hand through Cas’ brown locks. Cas shakes him off, leans up and says, “So.”

Dean raises an eyebrow in his direction. Castiel continues, trying to sound as casual as he can, “Have you thought about which classes you want to sign up for?”

Now Dean is shifting uncomfortably. He busies himself with different minute tasks, pretending to adjust his shirt hem or reading the fine print of a magazine cover on the coffee table. “Oh, yeah,” he says, as if it’s just now coming back to his mind, like he hasn’t been avoiding the hell out of it all weekend, “about that….”

The way Cas’ body tenses up does not go unnoticed by Dean. He backs away, sits up straight, narrows his eyes at Dean. “What _about that_?” he asks, obviously trying to keep an even tone. 

Dean avoids eye contact, letting his eyes settle anywhere but Cas’ face. This is not going to go well, of that he feels sure right now. “Well, y’know,” he starts, and he already sounds unsure of himself, “I’m just not sure about that anymore.”

Dean goes to brush his fingers on Cas; Cas recoils instantly. Not good. 

“What do you mean, you’re not sure?” Cas narrows his eyes skeptically. “We just talked about this. How you’ll be able to take on extra responsibilities at the shop, make more money… maybe even one day Bobby would hand the business over to you…” He pauses now, relaxing his stance a bit. “Dean, are you scared?” 

Dean’s fingers play awkwardly on the couch. His words are slow, meandering. “No, no, I’m not scared…” Cas’ facial expression begs him to go on. “Well, it’s just, I was talking to my Dad about it, and he thought it wasn’t really something that I need to spend my money—“

 _Ding ding._ There it is. At the very mention of John, Cas’ eyebrows raise up to his hairline and he is standing up and turning back toward the kitchen. 

“Cas, don’t walk away.” Dean calls, following his moves. He finds his boyfriend in their bedroom, fiddling with the throw pillows on the queen-sized bed they share.

There’s no reason to be making the bed. He just needs something to do, something with his hands to keep him from bursting into tears or shouting at Dean. 

“Cas.”

Cas stills, clutching a small blue throw pillow between his palms. He speaks softly, almost to himself. “Oh your dad said you shouldn’t do it? That’s great.”

Dean rolls his steps and takes a step toward the bed. “Listen, he’s a smart guy, Cas. I think he has a point. Those courses are a lot of money and it’s not something I have enough of to throw around.”

Cas’ eye practically jump out of his head. 

“Jesus, Dean, you know, I could understand it— I could deal if you told me you didn’t want to go because it was a decision you made on your own. But this? You’re an adult, make a damn choice for yourself for once.”

Dean bites his tongue. He could mention that he chose _him_ , chose Cas and that decision certainly hadn’t gone over like gangbusters with his father. He elects not to. Cas likes to yell, likes to vent all his frustrations on Dean so that he can leave and feel light and free while Dean is left to sit and stew and churn over his anger. 

“Great, well, I’m glad to know his opinion is so important to you. Obviously, more important than mine.”

“Cas, calm down.” It’s a warning. Dean is about to go off and it’s not going to be pretty. “You know I care about your opinion.”

“Just second best. How nice.” The sarcasm in Cas’ voice is biting. “That’s what I always dreamed of- finding a man who thinks of me a number _two_ in the whole wide world.”

Dean grits his teeth. “Cas. You’re not listening—” Here Cas rolls his eyes in a very mature move.   “—I’m just saying I need to think about—“

“ ** _Stop_** saying ‘I’.”

The force of Castiel’s voice gives Dean pause. He is caught between rage and surprise. 

“You are not the only one that this decision affects, Dean.” And with that Cas is grabbing for his keys and storming toward the door. Dean scowls and grunts, unable to find any words to fight back. “I don’t have time for this.”

The door slams loudly when he goes. 

Dean, emboldened by the solitude, immediately begins to mock his boyfriend’s argument. _‘I don’t have time for this? Stop saying I._ ’ he repeats aloud in a whiney tone, pretending that he thinks its funny. 

He moves to the kitchen to grab another beer. It doesn’t taste cold or refreshing in his mouth. It makes his face quirk up, his tongue turn bitter. He leaves it on the counter and returns to the living room. Doesn’t bother to turn the TV on again; instead, he chooses to sit in the silence, playing out different scenarios in his head of what to say when Cas gets back. 

Dean has never been a fighter- not with words, anyway. Cas, like Dean’s many girlfriends before him, can yell and scream and cry all day. Not Dean. He walks away, secludes himself, bites down his anger until the hot welt in his stomach dissipates and he can stand to function around humans again. Cas tells him that it’s not healthy. 

Maybe not, but it works. 

Dean is going to tell Cas to get over whatever his bullshit is with Dean’s dad: family relationships are family business, i.e not his. It’s part of Dean that Cas is going to have to accept if he wants to be with him. It’s not exactly news anyway; not much has changed between Dean and his dad in the three years since Cas has come into the picture. 

The whole college thing is dumb anyways. Dean is not a book learning guy, he never has been. Sammy got the brains, and he got the looks. And charm. And athletic ability. That’s just how it was. It was a nice idea, and he’d tell Cas that, but it never would have worked out anyway.

Dean hears the key turn in the lock and he’s on his feet immediately. He carries himself out into the hallway, chest puffed up and primed to tell his boyfriend just exactly what is on his mind. 

However. 

His voice catches in his throat before he has a chance to speak. 

Cas is standing in the doorway, turning as he closes the door gently behind him. His gaze is cool as it washes over Dean, before he darts his eyes to an unspecific spot on the rug. From his shoulder, a little head shrouded in tufts of light brown hair raises sleepily. Her beautiful little glazed-over eyes focus on Dean. “Daddy?” she grumbles. 

And the sight of Castiel holding his daughter in his arms has Dean completely undone. All the words that he’d planned and plotted seem utterly absurd now, just ridiculous. 

As if Dean has any right to get mad at Cas for anything he’s done, ever. 

The thing is, Cas doesn’t have to be here. 

Ruby came into Dean’s life when he and Cas had only been dating for about four months. They’d been friends for a little while before that, but not really. It was clear they’d both been just waiting for the chance to be “something more”. 

Ruby was a surprise. Not the way that most couples will tell you their babies were surprises… one day Dean was a happy single guy in an exciting new relationship, drinking whiskey late into the night and having raucous mid-afternoon sex in the living room, and the next day a nine-month old baby was on his doorstep. _His_ nine-month old baby. 

It was an old story. The kind Dean couldn’t believe really happened to people- and definitely not to him. (Though Sam joked that he’d be surprised if Ruby was the only one, with Dean’s track record for unsafe encounters.)

Her mother was a woman Dean had met at a bar when he and Sam were on a road trip a while back. She was young, pretty. She was hit by a car one day crossing the street, in clear blue daylight. Life was like that. She’d never told Dean about Ruby, but she did put his name on the birth certificate. So here they were. Here _she_ was: little Ruby. 

Dean had never really even _seen_ a baby before. Sure, at the grocery store or the beach or wherever in the general public, but he’d never handled one up close and personal. He didn’t know how to change a diaper. He didn’t know how to hold it. And he very confused about how he was supposed to feed a baby without any… well, you know. 

He was terrified, and he told Cas so. It was one of the most emotionally raw moments of his life, and he hated showing that side of him to someone he wanted to badly to seem strong for. 

It was Cas who pulled everything together, showed him how this whole thing worked. He helped Dean put the crib together and took shifts in the night when Ruby cried. He taught him that babies shouldn’t have blankets, because they could be dangerous, and they always needed baby powder so they wouldn’t get diaper rash. During the most difficult time in his whole life, Castiel has been his life raft. One-hundred percent dedicated and totally unquestioning. 

And Ruby isn’t even his kid. So, Cas doesn’t need to be here. The fact that he is at all is such a testament to what kind of person he is. Dean suddenly feels that place of burning anger in his stomach filling up with a whole different kind of warm feeling. 

And Cas can’t even look at him right now. 

Dean moves forward towards the two of them and reaches his arms out for his baby girl. “Hi, boo,” he croons softly, smiling as she slips off Cas’ chest and onto her father’s. “Did you have a fun time with uncle Sam?”

She can barely keep her head up long enough to give him a nod. He plants a kiss on the top of her head and tells her how much he’d missed her. In a move that very much reminds one whose daughter she is, she lets out a delicate little grunt and turns her head away from him. Dean smiles to himself and continues to stroke her hair. 

He turns his attention to Cas now. 

“Thank you for getting her.” He whispers softly. Cas doesn’t lift his gaze, just sort of shrugs his shoulders a bit. He moves past Dean down the hallway, stopping only when Dean’s fingers clasp around his wrist. 

The words were on the tip on Dean’s tongue just a second ago, but everything vanishes from his mind the second Castiel locks on him with those icy blue eyes. God. They are just about Dean’s favorite thing in this whole world, except maybe for the way Ruby laughs when she thinks her dad is being funny. 

Dean wonders for a moment what he would do if they weren’t his anymore- those big baby blues. If Cas looked at someone else this way. He thinks he’d just about go insane. 

The thought sends a chill down his spine that has Dean spitting out, “Cas, I’m sorry.”

Castiel’s features soften only for an instant before they change again; hardening, suspicious. His eyes narrow at Dean. “What specifically are you apologizing for?”

“I—“ Dean sputters. “I said I’m sorry, Cas. Isn’t that enough?”

Cas is silent. He runs his eyes over Dean’s face, thinking hard about something. His gaze falls to Ruby resting so sweetly on his chest. Cas breathes a heavy sigh and turns around, making his way for the little bedroom next to theirs. Dean follows as a nervous weight sets on his chest. 

The bed looks so tiny when compared to Cas’ figure looming over it. Dean slowly crosses the room, gently laying Ruby’s tiny body onto the soft mattress and dotting a kiss on her cheek. He steps back to give Cas room to move in and pet her hair. 

Dean doesn’t want to leave this room. He doesn’t want to walk out and go into their bedroom and fight and have Cas tell him something horrible that he doesn’t want to hear. He wants to hang on to this moment, to the way Cas looks at his daughter when she is sleeping so soundly in they bed they picked out for her together. 

Cas is the one to start the process, turning towards the door and beginning to leave when a tiny little voice pips up. 

“I want a story.”

Dean’s heart jumps. Yes, a story. That’s it. “What’s that, boo?” he asks her in a whisper. 

Ruby squirms beneath her covers. “Cassy,” she whines. “I want a story.”

Cas looks like he might try to fight it at first, but then his shoulders slump and he takes a seat in the miniature chair next to her bed and he tells her, “Sure, angel.”

Dean sighs happily.

“What do you want to hear about tonight?” Cas is intentionally trying to keep his voice low and soothing. They don’t need her getting riled up just when she’s ready to sleep. “How about the lions at the zoo? Or maybe—”

A sneaky little smile comes across Ruby’s lips as she pulls the blanket tight to her face. “I wanna hear about the little princess.”

Both men have to let out a chuckle at that one. “Of course,” Cas says to her. “Alright, where to begin? Oh! I remember. Once upon a time in a place very close to here, there lived a little princess—“

“What’s her name?” Ruby demands excitedly. 

“Her name? Well, funny you ask… her name was actually _Princess Ruby_.” And even though she’s heard this story almost every night since she first learned to talk, she stills gasps out loud when Cas says her name. Dean hopes that Cas’ heart is warm in the same way his is. 

He continues, “And Princess Ruby slept in a little pink bed just like yours and she lived in a castle—”

“Who lives with her in the castle?”

Dean perks up in the doorway and waits anxiously for his favorite part of the story. Normally Cas would answer her right away, but this time, only just for a second, he pauses. Dean feels his shoulders tense together. He wonders what Cas’ face might look like right then, turned away from Dean. Before he can get too worked up, though, Cas tells her. “She lives in her castle with her daddy and her Cassy.”

Ruby giggles happily. “That’s you,” she whispers animatedly to the man beside her. 

Dean can hear a smile in Cas’ voice. “That’s me.”

He waits there in the doorway listening to the whole long convoluted tale. It’s a little bit different every night, with Cas making different adjustments to keep her interested and Ruby always correcting some minor detail ( _“Don’t forget her dog, Thunderbolt!”_ ). It’s all he can do not to rush forward and grab both of them, pull them tight into his chest and make sure they never change, never go anywhere without him. 

Cas talks and talks until those pretty little eyes begin to droop again, and when the sound of soft snores begin to rise, he stands up and walks out of the room, giving Dean a subtle look as he does. 

“Cas,” Dean calls when they are out in the hallway, Ruby’s door closed quietly behind him. Cas doesn’t walk away this time. He is standing, waiting, ready for Dean to say whatever it is he wants to say. He doesn’t look angry. 

“I…” Dean shakes his head, tries to work his confidence back up. “I’m just sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have talked to my dad about the whole college thing. I’ll take the classes, I don’t care. Just don’t be mad anymore.”

He reaches out a hand to take Cas’ in his and doesn’t find any recoil. Cas is soft, letting Dean take hold of him. But he is shaking his head, softly, with a look of disappointment or some other thing Dean can’t quiet pinpoint. 

“That’s not it, Dean, it’s…” Cas closes his eyes for a second and sucks in a breath of air. “It’s not the classes. Though I appreciate the apology.” Dean smiles at that. “It’s not the classes. Take them, or don’t. I don’t care.”

Now Dean tilts his head in confusion. “If it’s not that, then…”

“I only wanted you to do them for you,” Cas interrupts him. “I don’t care if I’m the breadwinner, or the provider, or whatever you want to call it. I couldn’t care less how much money you make. I just wanted you to know that you have options. If you want to be a mechanic, that’s fine. If you want to do more, that’s fine too. Just know that you can do whatever you want. Because you’re smart.”

He’s moved closer to Dean now, drawing a hand up to his jaw and brushing gently along the skin. He’s soft. Dean’s brow is pinched in confusion, but he knows he’s happy that Cas doesn’t hate him.

“Just,” Cas goes on. “Just do it for you. Whatever it is you do. Not because you want to make me happy or your dad happy. Can you just promise me you’ll decide for yourself? Please?”

The way his face looks right now has Dean feeling a million things all at once, but first and foremost is an overwhelming desire to kiss him, so he does. He practically leaps forward and grabs Cas’s face with both hands and lays one on him because he can because Cas is his. And only his. And he doesn’t want that to change for a long, long time.

“I promise,” he whispers when he pulls away, resting his forehead against his boyfriend’s. Cas runs his fingers through Dean’s hair and smiles softly. 

“Thank you.” 

At last, Dean feels the weight that had settled on his chest dissipate, and he feels confident to pull Cas tight against him and nuzzle his face into the crook of his neck. He mutters against Cas’ skin, “So, we’re good right? You’re not…” He swallows hard. “You’re not going anywhere?”

He feels Cas’ hands on his shoulders pushing him back so they are looking each other square in the face. Cas’ expression is tired, a little annoyed. “Dean. Would you please stop acting as if every fight is The End? You don’t have to worry. I’m invested. I’m in this.”

The irritation melts from his eyes as he looks up at Dean and whoa, there they are again, big clear blue irises that make Dean’s resolve just turn into nothing. Dean’s stomach does a couple big flips, and he feels torn between emotions. He is happy, so happy that he gets to call Cas his own. And so mad at himself that he somehow forgets it from time to time. 

He thinks back on the angry words he’d wanted to throw at Cas earlier about his dad: that it was a family thing, family business. Dean forces himself to realize (yet again) that families are more than what we’re born with. 

“Good,” he breathes out simply after a moment. “In that case… I had an idea to run by you.”

Cas doesn’t speak, just keeps running a comforting hand over Dean’s skin. Strokes his cheek, scratches his head, rubs his shoulder. His face gives Dean permission to continue the question.

“What d’you think…. Well. How would you feel if Ruby started calling you Dad?”

Cas’ hand freezes in its tracks. He looks up at Dean with a combination of surprise and excitement that makes Dean’s face burst into the goofiest grin. That was exactly the reaction he was looking for. 

But it’s clear that Cas is holding back, trying not to get attached to the idea too quickly. “Are you sure, Dean? I mean, it could be confusing for her. She already has a dad—”

“Lots of kids have two dads.”

“—and, well, you know, she isn’t… I mean, I’m not…” Cas’ eyes roam Dean’s face as he struggles to find the right words. Dean lays a hand on his chest to stop him.

“Listen. You’ve been here right from the beginning: for all the good stuff, but also for bad stuff, like the 3 AM feedings and the meltdowns at the store. You’ve been just as much a parent to her as I have— hell, there was probably more than a few times you were a better parent than me.” Dean scratches at the back of his neck and chuckles dryly. “I think it’s high time you got some credit for it.”

Cas is blushing hard now and he turns away to hide it. “But she already has a name for me. Don’t you think she’ll get confused?” he asks meekly. 

Dean waves a hand at the suggestion. “C’mon. Kids are so malleable. She’ll be used to it in a week.”

A smile erupts over Castiel’s face. He’s run out of all the ways he can say no and Dean would guess from the look on his face that that’s a good thing. He reaches up to wrap his arms around Dean’s neck and tug him into a nice long, slow kiss. They are both humming happily. It is an excellent turn around from the beginning of the evening. 

After a few minutes, Dean pulls his lips away and lets a smug grin settle over his face, as he feels that he’s essentially come out of top of this one. He leans down for another lingering kiss and murmurs, “That’s what I thought… _daddy_.”

Cas shivers and backs away a fraction of an inch. “That is giving me mixed feelings now,” he says warily. Dean gets as close to his ear as he can to whisper it again.

“Daddy.”

“Dean, stop it, it’s weird.”

“Daddy.”

“Really, stop, it’s making me feel gross.”

“Daddy."

“Do it one more time and I smack you.”

Dean can’t help but to laugh softly as he gently pulls Cas tight against him again, or to sigh contentedly when he feels Cas’ face nuzzle against his chest. All is right in the world again. As long as they have each other, and they’re happy, the rest doesn’t seem to matter at all. Dean plants a kiss on the top of Castiel’s head. “Do you know you’re my favorite person?” He pauses for a second, then turns toward’s Ruby’s room. “Well, tied for favorite.”

Cas removes his head from the crevice of Dean’s neck to look at him and smile appreciatively. “That’s very sweet,” he says, leaning up to peck a kiss on Dean’s cheek. Dean sighs again, closes his eyes, doesn’t notice that Cas is backing further away and now slowly walking toward the bedroom. 

“It’s just a shame,” he continues with a very playful tone, “that you’re really only my second favorite.”

Dean’s eyes snap open indignantly and it’s seconds before he’s running after Cas with a devilish glint in his eye. Cas is quick though, he gets a head start and darts into the bedroom, even while he’s yelling, “Actually, maybe third favorite. Fourth, now that I’m really counting.”

He jumps onto the bed for refuge, bouncing on top of the many throw pillows, and Dean is right behind him, rolling Cas onto his back and pinning his hands above his head so that he has him exactly where he needs him. Dean presses forward so their chests are flush against each other. The glint in his eye is shining in a way that makes Cas wriggle with anticipation. 

“Tell me I’m you're favorite person.” He demands, lips ghosting over Cas’ skin in different places.

“Hmm…” Cas pretends to be musing over his options. He thinks he’s being very cute. Dean does too, but he needs to remind him who’s in charge, so he sinks his teeth into a spot on flesh below Cas’ ear. Cas yelps with pleasure. 

“Okay, okay,” he finally relents. He looks Dean in the eyes sincerely. “You’re my favorite person.”

It makes Dean’s heart go warm for the 1000th time this evening and he thinks he’s going to need to get used to it if this is the family he’s chosen. He leans down and noses softly against Cas’ cheek when he says, “Thank you.”

And now it’s Cas who has the evil glint in his eye. A smirk crosses his lips. “You’re welcome… _daddy_.”

“Eugh, gross, Cas, I really see what you mean with that.”


End file.
